Crayon
by Windswift
Summary: [Akito and Yuki childhood fic] Shigure gives Akito a new box of crayons, so Yuki gets to help him make a picture. They could have all been normal children, once.


Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya

For **Adi88**, who demanded that, among other things, this Would Get Written. And for her new box of crayons.

Chapter 97 spoiler has no implication because it's from a Yuki-centric PoV.

_**Crayon**_

"Shigure bought me a box of crayons." Akito tapped them against his chin as he gloated, making the contents rattle. He proudly offered the box to Yuki.

He had only just gotten back from school and in the door, so that meant Akito had been waiting all day to show these to him. He decided to forget the rule about taking off his uniform immediately and looked at the crayons thrust in his face instead.

"Ah… they're very nice crayons." And they were, brand new and clean with crisp points. Yuki wasn't sure what else Akito wanted him to say, so he asked, "Did you thank him?"

Akito yanked the box back haughtily and tucked it under his chin. "I don't need to. He knows I love them." Still, his eyes narrowed in a considering look, and he watched the mouse from the corner of his eye for a few minutes before he added, "I'm going to make him a picture. You can help me."

Yuki was changing his clothes now, so Akito got a few sheets of paper and spread them out on the floor. He laid on his stomach, considering which one would be best. He'd selected the perfect paper by the time Yuki was finished and was scrutinizing the inventory of his crayon box.

There were only eight colors, so an adult would say that Akito was taking a very long time deciding—but Akito liked things to be perfect. Yuki was sure Shigure wouldn't like a bad picture.

He took out the yellow crayon and drew a few circles, spread out everywhere over the page. Then he grabbed the red one and made squished shapes surrounding the yellow. Yuki tilted his head from where he was kneeling beside Akito; he was adding green ovals now.

Akito pressed the yellow crayon into Yuki's hands. "You can color those flowers," he ordered, and directed Yuki to the upside-down end of the paper while he stayed put and kept the red for himself.

He shifted the crayon around in his hand hesitantly—the teachers at school kept trying to tell everyone they were holding the crayons wrong all the time during coloring. Yuki wasn't sure he wanted the honor of trying Akito's new crayons. If they broke, he would get mad. And if he ruined the picture—though Akito might be in a good enough mood to forgive him today—he might hit. The grown-ups said there was no scratching each other and no hitting, but they didn't have time-out like at school. And Akito's lines were really wiggly and hard to color in.

Akito hummed a bit as he colored more carelessly than Yuki. He kicked his feet back and forth in time to the tune.

They kept coloring until they got to the middle of the paper and kept bumping heads and hands. Then Akito made them switch colors and start over. It wasn't so bad, really. It was more fun than being alone, and with Akito giving directions, Yuki didn't have to worry about anyone else grabbing the colors he wanted.

And they really were very nice crayons.

Yuki's mother had given him a box of crayons, once. She had said they were his brother's. Not that Yuki had seen this brother much. He had very fair hair and pale skin and looked a lot like a ghost, which might explain that, but regardless, the boy had existed for long enough to leave behind his crayons.

They were all worn out, the ends rounded and short with use. He'd ripped the papers messily when he ran out of crayon, and the paper that remained was dirty and marked up from the other colors. A few were broken in half or even smaller pieces. The box was all worn out too, colored and dirty and ripped, and the flap wouldn't shut properly, so the crayons sometimes fell on the floor if it was help upside-down.

It was like Ayame hadn't cared at all what happened to them.

So it wasn't a very big loss when his mother hadn't ever brought the crayons over from his old room, even though he'd asked. The crayon smell sometimes made him cough, anyway, when he wasn't expecting it.

Yuki finished with the red crayon at the same time Akito finished with the green. Akito admired it for a minute, then flipped it on the other side to scribble his signature. After a moment, he graciously added Yuki's name too. Yuki couldn't actually read it, but Shigure was older and smarter, so he would know what it meant.

"I'm going to go give it to him. You stay here and put the crayons away, okay? Make sure no one takes them," Akito commanded. It surprised Yuki a little—usually Akito would take the crayons with him because he didn't trust Yuki.

It was a funny warm feeling that made him smile. He liked coloring a lot, now.

He put the crayons away carefully, lining them up like a rainbow. They were a little less sharp, but they were still clean and pretty, and they were intact. When he put them on the shelf, he only thought for a second that it would have been even nicer if someone had given him a new box of crayons too.

**…****  
Owari  
…**

_-Windswift_


End file.
